


The New Roommate

by thanksforthecrumb



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Humor, i was pressured into posting this what can i say, thanks to the frary writers network i love you guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksforthecrumb/pseuds/thanksforthecrumb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern AU in which Francis and Bash are looking for a new roommate because they can't pay the rent by themselves. Written purely for fun. (Rated T for Bash's potty mouth.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Roommate

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months ago and it was kind of never supposed to see the light of day, but then a lovely human being on the Frary Writers' Network discovered it and convinced me to post it. (this is all your fault, emma. no, just kidding. you're amazing and i love you.)

“Hey, Bash. Have you found more people?” Francis says as he closes the apartment door and drapes his jacket on the tiny wooden table by the doorway.

 Bash sets his Rubik’s Cube on what can technically be classified as a coffee table, casting a sad look in its direction. He pulls out a piece of paper from under a pile of other papers. He grunts, almost rolling off the couch in an attempt to retrieve the paper. “Um…yeah.” He leafs through them, trying to pinpoint the certain one. “Ah…here it is!” He waves his prize triumphantly in the air. On it is a printed list of names, along with helpful pros and cons next to each applicant’s name. Things like  _hot_ , and  _cool_ , and  _has a lot of weed_.

 “I don’t see any new people,” says Francis as he scans the list.

 “There’s one new. And anyway, I thought we decided on Bill Prescott. We don’t need to look at new people,” Bash answers from his lazy resting place on the sofa.

“No,  _you_  decided on Bill Prescott.”

 Bash shrugs. “I thought you did too. He has a lot of—”

 “Weed. Yeah. I know. You wrote it next to his name.”

 “I’m just saying. I wouldn’t mind free joints every once in a while.”

 Francis snorts and throws the list at Bash’s face. Or tries, at least. It ﬂutters down to the ﬂoor gracefully, ﬂoating slowly through the air.

“Hey! Did you see the new applicant? She’s a girl,” Bash calls to a quickly retreating Francis. “She’s  _hot_.”

 “Okay. Sure,” Francis replies over his shoulder, closing the door to his bedroom. He sits on the bed. A moment later, his head pops out of a crack between the door. “How hot?” 

 Bash chuckles. He waves a hand in the vague direction of the paper, still lying on the ﬂoor. “Super hot. Like, really,  _really_  hot. See for yourself.”

Francis frowns, not wanting to go get the piece of paper, but also wanting to see this hot girl. His lust wins out and he drags his feet across the apartment ﬂoor, grunting much louder than he needs to as he bends down to collect the list.  

He pays closer attention to the names this time. The last name, scrawled in hastily, is the only entry that bears a picture. Francis’s jaw drops. Not at the picture, but the name. “Hey—Mary Stuart.”

 Bash looks up. “Yeah. You know her?”

 Francis nods, not taking his eyes off the picture and name. “I mean, I guess. We went to preschool and kindergarten together. We were close, I think. I have some little kid pictures of me with her in them.”

 Bash rolls his eyes. “Well, if we’re considering her, I call dibs.”

 “What the heck?”

 “Dibs. On Mary.”

 “Dude.”

 Bash looks up at him innocently. “What?”

“That’s, like…that’s wrong.”

 Bash cocks an eyebrow. “You were thinking it.”

 “I was not!” Francis grins, raising his hands in protest.

 “Yeah. You were.”

 Francis laughs and throws himself onto the couch, shoving Bash’s head to make room. “Fine. So maybe I was thinking it. But you said it.”

 Bash nods in a self-satisﬁed  _I told you_  so manner. He goes back to playing with his Rubik’s Cube.“Dibs.”

 “Seriously?”

 Bash looks at his little brother, his face emotionless. “Um…yeah.” He rests the back of his head on Francis’s thigh, ﬁddling with the cube. Francis stares at him.

 “Why?”

 “Dude, I called dibs. That’s literally the point of dibs. Whoever calls them ﬁrst gets claim.”

 “Redo, then,” Francis says, looking down at Bash’s head.

 Bash raises his eyebrows, still not looking at Francis, although he makes an attempt by moving his eyes to the top of his head. “You can’t redo dibs. You get one chance.”

“Fine,” Francis mutters. He shuts up for a few seconds, leaving Bash to the mindless twisting of his cube. A quiet settles onto the apartment. The blanket of silence is broken promptly when Francis shouts “Nosies!” and shoves his pointer ﬁnger onto the tip of his nose.

 Bash chucks his Rubik’s Cube to the ﬂoor, ﬂashing a hand to his face in a vain attempt to beat his brother to his nose. Bash swears. Francis grins smugly in an  _I_   _am amazing I have ninja speed when it comes to Nosies_  way.

“Dude, what the fuck? You can’t just  _call_  Nosies. Who the fuck just  _calls_ Nosies?”

 Francis laughs, pointing his hand in Bash’s direction. “That’s literally the  _point_  of Nosies,” he reminds his brother. He laughs again. Although, really, he shouldn’t be the one laughing because his nose is quickly turning an alarming shade of purple-red. But, hey. Whatever. He won Nosies.

“No, this doesn’t count. I  _called_  dibs.” Bash runs a hand through his brown hair. “ _Jesus._ I  _called dibs_ ,” he whispers to himself.

 “Wait, wait.” Francis waves his hands. He attempts to be the bigger person, but a hint of his smug grin remains on his lips. “We still haven’t decided who the new roommate is going to be.”

“I’m tempted to veto Mary Stuart so that you and your fucked up Nosies can’t get her,” Bash says sullenly.

 “That’s—”

 “Not fair? You’re telling me. I  _called_  dibs.” He reaches to the ground and swipes his Rubik’s Cube, jerking the twistable pieces moodily. It’s clear he has pretty much no idea what he’s doing, because he’s succeeded in making one side of the cube a patchwork of mismatched colors. Still, he ﬁddles with the toy, pretending he knows how to use it.

 “Okay, well, I vote Mary,” says Francis, raising a hand to emphasize his vote.

“Well,  _I_  vote fucking  _Bill Prescott_ ,” Bash retorts. “And,  _furthermore_ , I call  _dibs_ on  _all_  the free  _weed_.”

“ _Bash_ ,” says Francis, “you don’t  _need_  to put  _emphasis_  on everything you  _say_.”

 “I will fucking put emphasis on anything I  _deem necessary_.”

 “Don’t…don’t say deem. You sound weird.”

 Bash sits upright and twists his body to look at his brother, shaking the couch and making Francis smile and shrug innocently. They stare at each other intensely. “ _Fine_ ,” Bash sighs. “She can be our roommate.”

 “Yes!” Francis shouts, pumping a ﬁst in the air and earning a blistering look from Bash.

 “But only because I want to watch you fail at getting her to like you. And then I’ll swoop in there, and, you know what? Your fucking Nosies will be worth nothing.”


End file.
